


Hate

by Psychicsniper



Series: Hate [2]
Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Dominance, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Intimidation, Mental Coercion, Older Man/Younger Woman, Past Rape/Non-con, Psychological Torture, Rape, Sadism, Sexual Coercion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 09:00:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2767310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Psychicsniper/pseuds/Psychicsniper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tougane Sakuya takes advantage of his power over Shimotsuki Mika.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hate

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot stress enough how incredibly NON-CON this is. If you are sensitive to rape and psychological abuse and the blatant use of intimidation and fear of retaliation to control another person, then please, press the back button now.

            Shimotsuki Mika hated Tougane Sakuya so much. She hated everything about him, his voice, his face, his hair, the ground on which he stood, the air within his lungs. Every breath he took made her want to retch.

            She was also deathly afraid of the man. Every time he stood before her, her feet wouldn’t move as if they were cemented to the floor. Every time he towered over her, her breath caught in her throat. When his skin touched hers she wanted desperately to pull away. Even after his touch left her skin, she wanted nothing more than to wash her skin. If she could rub her skin off, she would.

 

            Her communication device beeped and she stared at the name on the offensive device. Her heart stopped cold. It continued to beep as she cleared her throat and took a deep breath, and with a voice that came out as desperately trying to sound confident, “Shimotsuki.”

            “Come to my dorm.”

            “Um… I’m busy. I need to- to finish this paperwork,” she immediately started to fall back into her self-conscious state of mind.

            “Our shift ended an hour ago… Are you avoiding me?”

            She could hear her heart pounding in her ears, “N-no. I’ll be there soon.”

            He disconnected the call. She took a deep breath and tried to slow her breathing. She couldn’t keep him waiting. She tried that last time; it didn’t end well. She turned off her computer terminal and stood up from her office chair. Her body started to shake as she made her way down the hallway.

            She knocked on the door and waited for what seemed like forever for him to open the door and usher her inside.

            He closed the door and locked it behind her, then turned to face her. She knew exactly what was going to happen. It had been happening since she was told about the Sibyl System, since he bent her small frame over his mother’s desk. Since he laughed at her pitiful groveling, her flattery, and her pathetic, futile attempts at escape.

 

            The arrogant smirk glued upon his face made her cringe. He stood behind her and pressed his lips on the right side of her neck. She could feel his smirk on her neck, and had to resist the urge to vomit.

            His kisses became open-mouthed as he slipped her jacket off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.  She stood perfectly still, like she was told. Every muscle in her body tensed as he unbuttoned her shirt. Button by button. He breathed into her ear, “You did this to yourself.”

            If her body could tense any more, it would have. He pulled the shirt off her shoulders, “If you had only kept your curiosity caged, this wouldn’t be happening.”

            She wanted to scream. Every time he said it he chipped away at her psyche. He kept reminding her of how she could have made the right choice, and ignored the Tougane Foundation intelligence she had gathered. She could have not let her systematic undermining of Akane cloud her judgement. She could have let bygones be bygones and left the damn situation alone. But she made the choice. She made her bed, and now she must sleep in it, with Tougane. 

            He pushed her forcefully against the wall, her face smacked against the cement wall. It stung as she felt him remove her bra, then reach around to unbuckle her belt, and undo her trousers. His body pressed against hers, and she could feel his hardness against her back.

            She knew if she resisted, there would be blood. Hers to be exact. She knew the second she told him ‘no,’ she could consider her life over. One day, she would be out searching for a suspect, and the lethal eliminator beam would be the last thing she’d see; or she would ‘accidentally’ fall from a great height.

            Her body betrayed her. Each and every time. The feeling of his lips against her neck, or his forceful bites upon her breasts made her wet. ‘Is this how men are?’ she often asked herself, wholly horrified of the possibility of an affirming answer.  
             
             She never had this kind of experience with women. But then again, they had nothing to gain from scaring her into submission. He forced his hands between her legs, under her panties and stroked her. She could feel her pulse between her legs, his fingers expertly exploring her, becoming coated in her fluids.

            He pulled her black trousers and panties off then slipped her out of her shoes, “Bedroom. Face down,” he ordered.

            He always made her do that. He’d watch her naked frame walk timidly toward his bedroom, and smirk at her obvious humiliation.

            She complied with his order and laid herself face down on his bed. His bedroom, much like the rest of his dormitory was darkly lit. The crimson walls, black pure silk sheets and dim lighting, seemed all too fitting for a man like Tougane. Seemingly sultry and sophisticated, but really, just a dark room, to match a dark soul.

            He followed her into the bedroom and took his suit off, item by item, with not an ounce of hurry, as if he was removing his clothes to take a shower after a long day.

            He grabbed a condom from the bedside table and slipped it on himself. He straddled her on the bed and pulled up her hips. Without warning he slipped inside her and pulled her arms behind her back. His silk sheets muffled her groans as he pounded into her. Skin slapped against skin at a fervent, uncontrolled pace as he pounded her forcefully. “You’re weak. Worthless,” he panted.

            His dirty talk was always so painful to hear. He never called her names, no ‘bitch’ or ‘dirty whore.’ He was entirely too classy for that. No, his words burned her. His words only seemed to make her feel even smaller and less stable than she was before she walked through the door. They made her feel helpless. She was all alone, and the only chance of survival was bending to his will. She knew she’d break eventually, and almost welcomed the eventual release from sanity, from him.

            His pace became even less organized, and his breath began to hitch. She didn’t move when his final thrusts buried him deep inside her as he came. He pulled himself out of her and threw away the condom. She didn’t dare move from the position she was in. He’d be back. He sat at the foot of the bed and pushed her bum down, then pulled her by the ankles to the foot of the bed. He pulled her tiny frame into his lap. Her legs straddled his, with her still wet entrance just inches away from his relaxed, but probably soon to be erect member.

            He bit her collarbone, eliciting a cry from the young woman. An appreciative chuckle came from his throat as he bit the other, eliciting the same cry. Almost ten minutes of agonizing biting passed before, she felt him twitch between her legs. She fought back tears at the numerous bite marks all over her chest, a few started to bleed. He flipped her back onto the bed and reached for the condoms. She shifted slightly, and grazed his quickly hardening erection with her knee. He hissed in pain and gripped his hand around her neck, “Do you not listen? I told you the first time, not to move.”

            She nodded as best she could with his hand beneath her jawbone and coughed out a ‘yes’.

            He quickly recovered and put the condom on, then pulled her legs around his waist and thrust inside her, all the while forcefully gripping her neck. Her face became red, and he lessened his grip, to let her breathe, before tightening his grip again. His pace was painful and her muscles tightened around him, ensuring he knew he wasn’t welcome. He slipped out of her and ripped off the condom. Her eyes widened, as she tried to calculate his next move. He let go of her legs and climbed on top of her. He straddled her chest and stroked himself, and pulled her head up by her hair. She winced in pain as he pressed his cock against her lips. She took him in, being absolutely sure to not let her teeth graze him. He thrust into her mouth, seemingly not concerned with her gagging. His sack grazed her chest with each thrust.

            He suddenly pulled himself from her mouth and stroked himself. She watched him stroke himself to climax and squeezed her eyes shut as he spilled himself on her face. He slapped her face with his softening cock and dismounted, then padded off to the shower room, leaving her still in bed, with come on her face.

            It was over, until the next time he demanded sex, and she submitted simply out of fear. Knowing his appetite and hunger for dominance, he’d probably call her tomorrow.

            She sat up and wiped the come off her face. She looked down at her hands, covered in white, sticky fluid and tears welled up in her eyes. She stood and miraculously made her way into the bathroom to wash her hands and face. She looked in the mirror and almost didn’t recognize herself. Her eyes were dark and swollen. Her skin was pale and she looked like she had lost weight. She washed her hands and face and stared into the mirror again. “It’s not my fault,” she murmured, “It’s not my fault.”

            She left the bathroom, and turned the corner to retrieve her clothing. Tougane, clad only in a towel around his waist, blocked her path and stared down at the young woman. He put two fingers under her chin and pulled her face up. He kissed her lips and murmured against them, “It’s all your fault.”

            He kissed her again as she pushed against his bare chest. She wriggled out of his grasp and quickly dressed herself before quickly fleeing his dormitory and going to her car. She started the car and drove home, this time, the long way.

            She couldn’t wait to see him dead. She wanted nothing more than to be the person pulling the trigger and watching him die, to watch his disembodied legs fall lifelessly to the ground, to watch what would be left of his body, his disgusting, terrible, body, being mopped off the floor, to never see him again.


End file.
